


Finally

by BoStarsky



Series: Assorted Kylux [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Emo Ren really needs a fucking hug, General Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Hux actually gives a shit, Hux is shit at emotions, Kylo suffers, M/M, Millicent the cat - Freeform, Phasma has the good stuff, Phasma probably uses the boys as weights, Sad Fluff, Snoke is a massive satchel of assholes, but still fluff, some blood, someone needs to give Kylo a puppy or some shit, this ship is so fucking dark, warnings for self harm and some anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-15 22:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoStarsky/pseuds/BoStarsky
Summary: “Is that why you harm yourself? To punish?” He already knows the answer and the way Kylo visibly folds in on himself is proof enough.





	1. Chapter 1

Hux was fuming with rage as he took in the scene before him, the glowing hot marks criss crossing the wall, the upturned furniture, debris strewn across the floor and in the midst of it all the raging hurricane that was Kylo Ren. Making his way into the maelstrom with deliberately heavy steps, so as not to get his head sliced off by the violently crackling lightsaber being imbedded into a console, he grabs ahold of Ren’s arm. “That’s enough!” He snaps, tightening his fingers in what must surely be a painful hold for the knight who stills like he’s been paralysed. There is a drawn out pause, the red glare of the saber casting an eerie glow on Ren’s helmet, the only sound sharp breaths that come out like static through the mask. By the time Ren snaps into motion again Hux’s knuckles are turning white, and if he’s not imagining it, an unnatural warmth is seeping into the cloth of Ren’s sleeve. 

The room is plunged into silence for a few seconds that sit like lead while Ren attaches the saber to his belt with an uncharacteristic fumble. “Release me,” The mechanised voice cuts through the air and Hux gives one last warning squeeze before letting go and taking a step back preparing to speak. “There is nothing to discuss.” He snaps before marching towards the door. Not one to stand for such behaviour from anyone much less the grown child that is Kylo Ren he makes a move to grab him once more quickly finding himself held in place by way of the force. He can feel eyes burning into his skull from behind the anonymous mask, squaring his jaw and hardening his glare he faces down the menace in front of him, making it clear that this is not over before Ren vanishes out the door in a sea of sweeping robes. 

It’s only when the footsteps have faded that he is released, feeling a creeping humiliation at being treated in such a way by someone on his own ship. He would see to it that Ren faced the consequences for it before too long. Going to right his uniform out of habit he catches sight of a smattering of red on the palm of his hand, the one he used to grip The knight. The warmth was not imagined it would seem as he easily identifies the seen of fresh blood on his skin. A budding thought makes him wonder why the knight was bleeding, but he quickly forces it away. It’s none of his concern. 

———

The thought stays hidden away for weeks until the day he’s standing in the hangar awaiting the return of Ren and a squadron of his Stormtroopers from the planet below. Hopefully they will carry with them the Jedi artifact they were sent to retrieve, he’d much rather stay on the good side of the supreme leader, if the wretched creature even had one. 

The troopers file out of the shuttle, one carrying a small box with the kind of care afforded to volatile explosives. They are short three men and several of the survivors have scuff marks and blaster burns marring the pristine white of their armour. Scowling at the mangled squadron he nearly passes over the slightly dishevelled Kylo Ren marching down the ramp, he would have paid him no mind if it wasn’t for the steady drip of blood coming from his right arm, soaking through the black fabric and marking the polished floor of the hangar. 

In a bold move he grasps the Knight’s wounded arm as he passes, halting him in his path. “I suggest you make a trip to the infirmary, Ren. I don’t need you bleeding all over my ship.” He sneers, hating the blip of worry that surfaces somewhere in his brain. 

“It’s none of your concern.” The cold mechanical voice grates at him as Ren makes a weak attempt at snatching his arm back. 

“Every soul on this ship is my concern,” He snaps back. “Wether you are under my command or not your health is my responsibility. Have your wounds tended to immediately.” There is no leeway in the command, if Ren was one of his he would be wise to obey, instead he feels the force prying his grip off with bruising strength leaving Ren free to march on. 

Captain Phasma regards him from a few feet away and he turns to avoid her gaze as his brain supplies that there was no damage to Ren’s robes. Then why was he bleeding? And why so reluctant to seek medical attention. It’s a well known fact among the crew that no one has seen what lies beneath the mask or even a sliver of skin, but surely the man can’t be so set in his ways that he would allow wounds to fester rather than display a stretch of skin. No man is that obstinate, there must be another reason behind it and he intends to find out. 

As much as he despises the man Hux knows Snoke will hold him responsible if something were to befall his beloved knight, be it his own stupidity or a blaster. Ren is long gone by the time he steps out of the hangar, but he doesn’t have to go far before he feels a hum in the air and a sudden, sharp pain across his left arm quickly followed by the right. Glancing around he can see a few other members of the crew recoil in surprise as shame and anger grazes his mind. He doubts Kylo Ren is aware of his broadcasting as he follows the emotions that radiate from one of the rooms further down the corridor. 

Ren whips around to face him as he steps into the break room, the table is flipped over and the remains of a few mugs are floating in the air around him. They crash to the floor, breaking further as the door slides shut behind Hux, all, but one shard. Gripped tightly in a gloved hand and dripping pearls of fresh blood, it follows its mates to the floor a second later. “If you won’t go to the infirmary I shall see to your wounds myself.” He surprises himself with the softness of his voice as he takes in the evidence before him, the rucked up sleeves, the fresh cuts among the older ones marking the pale skin. It breaks his heart a little when he combines it with what he felt in the corridor just minutes ago. 

Kylo doesn’t move, rooted to the spot and shaking with repressed emotions as the blood flows down his arms and into his gloves. Hux gives him a moment to collect himself as he turns to search for the mandatory first aid kit kept in all break rooms. Placing the white box on the counter he pulls up a chairs and wets the tea towel laying by the sink. “Sit.” He leaves no room for disobedience in his tone, yet he is met with silence. 

Feeling frustration rising within him he goes to force Kylo into the chair, but the man evades his touch like it meant death. “Why won’t you let me touch you?” He attempts to get his intentions across and hopes that the frightened man, in front of him knows he means no harm. 

“It is weakness and must be punished.” The way he says it, even through that blasted mask, sounds like something that’s been drilled into his brain, repeated to no end. It makes his hatred for Snoke double in an instant. 

“Is that why you harm yourself? To punish?” He already knows the answer and the way Kylo visibly folds in on himself is proof enough. He points to the chair once more, this time he gets a response as kylo hesitantly sits down in front of him. “Physical contact is not a weakness, it’s a necessity.” Pulling up another chair he sits down in an effort to be less threatening and slowly reaches for Kylo’s arm. 

He tenses up as Hux pulls him closer, their knees knocking together as he brings the wet cloth to the torn skin. He tries to be gentle as he wipes the blood away. “This is not something to be punished for,” He doubts it’ll make much of a difference, but Kylo needs to hear it regardless. “Is it weak to be embraced by your mother? Is it weak to caress a lover, lead a child by their hand, carry a wounded man to safety? Is it weakness to receive comfort in times of need?” There is no answer, nor did he expect one. With the blood finally cleared he can assess the damage, the fresh cuts are just two of many and he wonders how long Kylo has been doing this, the scars to many to count. Several are still fresh, but he can see more faded by the years. 

“I doubt my words will make much of a difference to you,” Trying to locate a pair of eyes through the chrome grid before him is a challenge, but he feels he manages well enough. “But no matter what Snoke says, there is no weakness in touch.” The bacta gel is slick between their skin as he smooths it over Kylo’s arms. He feels he’s done the best he can with the supplies in the kit and he makes a note to have it replenished, he wishes he could have done more which pools a somewhat unpleasant feeling in his gut.

By the time he’s taping down the clean, white bandages some of the tension has gone out of Kylo, his deep shuddering breaths betraying his fragile control. He wonders when someone last laid a friendly hand on the man, knowing the answer to that would likely hurt more than wondering. “I’d like it if you stopped doing this to yourself, but I hope the next time you let me tend to you at least, there is no weakness in that.” Finished with his work he stands to put the supplies away and bin the bloody towel, he’s not the least bit surprised when Kylo leaves without a word. 

———

Ren doesn’t speak a word to him over the next month outside of what is official business, not even so much as acknowledgement when they pass in the halls. Hux can understand, to an extent, how humiliated Ren must have felt in that break room, how difficult it must have been to not run away. He can only hope it didn’t result in more blood. 

Despite his worries he makes an effort to touch Ren whenever he can get away with it, a brush of shoulders as they pass, a quick pat on the back. At first he tenses up, but as the days pass he softens to the touch, yielding to his silent encouragement. He makes an effort not to push knowing that he’s walking on fragile glass, that Ren could kill him like swatting a fly. Still, he has seen a glimpse of what’s under those robes, the vulnerability hiding in plain sight. What he once though was a ridiculous fashion statement gaining a deeper meaning rooted in abuse and fear. He knows what that’s like. The memories of his childhood forever seared into his brain, the bruises left behind by his father, the cold shoulder of his nanny droid. It took him years to control his anxieties, to trust another person not to harm him. 

It comes as a surprise when he’s dragged out of sleep by the familiar chime of someone requesting access to his quarters. A glance at the chronometer leaves little doubt of who it might be, he can only think of one person who’d be asking for his attention at this hour. Dragging a shirt over his head and smoothing his hair down he lets Kylo Ren into his chambers, the lights in the corridor haloing his broad frame. He can tell immediately by the way Kylo holds himself that this isn’t business, the measured breaths giving away his carefully maintained control. He seems to slump more than usual as he steps inside and removes his left glove revealing the red beneath. No words are needed while Hux retrieves his first aid kit and Kylo exposes the gash that covers the length of his forearm. 

“Thank you for coming to me.” He speaks in quiet tones as if the man across from him is a frightened animal. There is no answer as he goes to work. There are several new marks since the last time he did this, pink scars and still healing wounds marring the pale skin. This one is by far the largest yet, thankfully it’s not very deep. 

The silence carries on as he washes the blood away and cleans the wound, it’s only disturbed by the soft pat of Millicent’s paws on the cold floor. She must have noticed him leaving bed. The red tabby twines herself between their legs before jumping onto the couch next to Kylo, no doubt assessing him as a potential threat or not. She deems him to be safe offering a friendly headbutt to his hip before easing her way into his lap. Kylo sits perfectly still as she settles down, nestling into the black robe. “You can pet her if you like.” Letting a small smile slip he puts his focus back on the wound. A hesitant minute later Kylo seems to cave under Millicent’s expectant stare and gently runs his free hand down her back. 

He leaves Kylo alone with his newfound friend in order to put away the kit and consider requesting tea or hot chocolate from the mess. He decides asking is the safer option in case Kylo isn’t comfortable removing his mask in front of him. Stopping in the doorway for a minute he watches Millie cozy up to the unusually timid knight who now has his ungloved hand buried in her fur, the long fingers rubbing softly as if she might break under his touch. He nearly misses the minute tremors in Kylo’s broad shoulders, the hitched breaths barely audible beneath the helmet. 

Hux doesn’t have much experience in comforting, but he wants this to be a safe space for Kylo, if nothing else. Approaching cautiously he retakes his spot on the couch watching Kylo seize up, no doubt holding his breath until he lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. Trying to convey a sense of safety and acceptance he rubs across his back feeling the tension under his hand slowly abate, the tremors returning. The mechanised sobs are a strange sound whispering through his quarters, such a soulful thing robbed of its humanity. 

It takes effort not to halt his movements when Kylo reaches for his mask, releasing the lock with a hiss. He tries not to stare as it comes off, revealing thick black hair. Kylo takes a deep shuddering breath as if he’s just surfaced from beneath water, the mask falling to the floor and startling Millicent from her nest. Choking on a sob he brings his hands up to hide his face, curling in on himself, attempting to hide from view. 

Feeling more out of his element than he’s ever been, Hux hesitates for a second before carefully running his fingers through the long hair finding it a risk worth taking when Kylo leans into his touch. He keeps stroking until Kylo is curled into his side, wet face pressed into his neck and sobs easing off. It’s quiet for a long time, he assumes they’re both unsure how to proceed without creating an irreparable rift in their already stilted relationship. 

Kylo’s hair is soft, slipping between his fingers like silk as he takes the first step by offering a timid embrace fully expecting to be flung across the room before he can lay his arm around the young knight’s back. Much to his surprise the embrace is accepted, strong arms winding around his waist as Kylo leans his substantial weight further into Hux’s side forcing him to lean back into the sofa. The strangeness of the situation dawns on him when he breaths in the flowery scent of his hair along with the solid heat pressing him to the firm cushions. He’s seen this man, this fractured soul, cut down men and women alike with no remorse. A ruthless force of nature seeking out comfort from a cold general in the wee hours of the morning. 

Time becomes irrelevant, the only indication of its passing the steady tick of the chronometer and Millicent making rounds to see if there’s any chance of him returning to bed. He doubts there is. Sleep would not come easy, the knot of emotions in his gut keeping his mind occupied and far from relaxed. Kylo’s breathing has evened out, but he doesn’t dare to check if he’s awake of not out of respect for his privacy. The mask may be off, but that still doesn’t mean he is comfortable showing Hux his face. As curious as he is to put a face to his ever present pain in the ass, now isn’t the time. 

At this moment there is no General Hux or Lord Ren, just Armitage and Kylo. 

It’s another while longer before Millie gives up on waiting and settles down against his thigh, he feels crowded. Maker help him if someone were to ever find out about this, he’d have to raze a planet just to reestablish his reputation. At least he’s warm. 

Deep into considering planets to annihilate and the implications of being caught literally sleeping with Kylo Ren his brain decides that there is no imminent threat and shuts down. If he had the presence of mind to realise how stupid that was he would have taken action, but as it were his eyes were already slipping shut. He’s startled back awake in what feels like seconds by Kylo’s head slipping off his shoulder immediately waking the man who straightens back up like a spring effectively clobbering Hux in the mouth with the back of his head. 

“Shit, sorry.” His ears are still ringing by the time Kylo’s mumbled apology reaches him and he’s too preoccupied by the taste of copper to realise it’s the first time he’s heard the unfiltered voice of the knight. He wants to be mad and yell about his split lip until he catches sight of dark eyes brimming with concern. 

Hux feels like he’s looking at something he shouldn’t. He’s so young, beautiful in an ethereal fashion with dried tear tracks over his high cheekbones and remnants of sleep clinging to his features. It’s tragic really. How could Snoke break such a young man, destroy his self worth, crush his very soul? It’s all too easy to forget the ache in his jaw and his sense of propriety when he brings a hand up to rub away the dried tears. Kylo freezes at his touch, how long since anyone laid a gentle hand on his face? After a while those enchanting eyes slip shut as Kylo nearly melts into his hand, breath warm against Hux’s skin.

The moment is broken all too soon when his alarm goes off and brings reality crashing down. They’ll be expecting him on the bridge in an hour. Kylo pulls away like he’s been burned, snatching his helmet from the floor and crossing the room in three long strides. He pauses by the door, looking back at Hux as he slips the mask on. “Thank you.” That monotone voice has never bothered him more, he struggles to attach it to what he now knows is hiding beneath the cold visage. The door slides shut and his hand feels cold, quickly missing Kylo’s warmth. 

He can feel the eyes on him when he steps onto the bridge for his shift, no doubt speculating about his broken skin. The wound is sore and swollen, but it brings with it a pleasant reminder of lavender, soft hair and pale skin. He would rather the crew speculate who he fought than find out how it actually came to be. By lunch there are murmurs spreading down the corridors, wild theories that range from sexual to despicable, he wonders if Ren has caught wind of any. A blushing Kylo Ren is suddenly something he’d like to see. 

Phasma seems to know something, the woman’s calculating stare leaving a haze of embarrassment. He can see it coming from miles away when she suggests he join her for tea. More like interrogation. Once that chrome helmet comes off she has a way of drawing out the information she wants without having to say a single word. Hux knows this, he knows it very well, but it’s preferable to the officers mess that will be teeming with gossip. At least Phasma can be trusted with anything she’ll drag out of him. 

“Interesting love mark,” Phasma barely makes the effort to hide her smirk behind the rim of her mug. The suggestions lurking in her sharp eyes making his ears warm. “Is he any good?” If he didn’t know she could probably bench press him with her pinky he might have done something stupid like deny everything, alas, with that thought in mind he’d rather not risk it. It’s not like he could afford to demote or transfer her either when she’s the only thing he has even resembling a friend. 

He toys with the idea of feeding her an outrageous story about his sexual exploits that she would see right through like the thinly veiled distraction it would be. “I wouldn’t know,” He offers instead, feeling he has a duty to protect Kylo from her. “Millicent tripped me up.” The lie is vague enough and almost the truth as he did stumble over her this morning which resulted in nothing more than a sore shin from hitting the bed frame on his way down. She doesn’t believe him, that much is obvious from the way she leans in. 

Determined not to give her the upper hand so easily he mirrors her, taking a slow sip of his tea, never once breaking eye contact. “Is he human?” She’s gauging his reaction, trying to find out if he’s seen Ren’s face or not. He keeps a straight face while dark eyes cloud his memory. 

“That’s none of your concern.” He can’t know for certain Kylo is entirely human, only the man himself knows that. The probability that he isn’t is small, but not impossible. Half truths are the best way to deter Phasma’s technique, he’s found. Don’t confirm or deny, just dodge. 

“I find it hard to believe you’d let him get away with punching you in the face.” She stays her ground, chipping away at his barriers. 

“Who says I did?” Relaxing back in his seat, he crosses his legs casually, challenging her to try harder. But before he can enjoy the look of frustration flashing across her face a wave of panic and fear crashes into him. It feels like being stomped on by an AT-AT and it takes a second to realise it’s not his own emotions. Phasma seems unaffected so he must be the only one feeling it. He considers asking, just to be sure, but when he feels a sharp pain across his left pectoral he knows there’s no point. He flinches when the knife makes another pass, does Kylo know he’s projecting this? “Excuse me.” He doubts he gets away with his attempt at showing no emotion as a deep anguish knots in his gut. Appearances be damned he rushes out of the room, following the thin thread connecting him to Kylo with Phasma’s eyes drilling into the back of his head. 

It hardly comes as a surprise when he finds Kylo just a few doors down from Snoke’s conference chamber, the storage room scorched beyond saving. At least there’s no expensive equipment to replace this time. He really should help Kylo find a less costly way of tiring himself out. 

“You know, there are less expensive ways to express yourself, our budget meetings have started to drag on,” Kylo doesn’t so much as twitch in response. “Did he hurt you?” Hux knows he’s listening, he can feel the spike of emotion. 

“No.” It’s a lie, they both know it. Hux wants to pry, but he knows better than to take a crowbar to the crack he’s made in Kylo’s armour. This is something he has to do the long way around. 

“You should get this taken care of.” The knight flinches when Hux strokes across the cuts hidden beneath his robes. He wasn’t aware of calling out then. 

“How did you know?” Even through that bloody modulator he can hear the uncertainty. Hux knows he must have some idea of how, they don’t bother with surveillance in most storage rooms, if someone wants to make the effort to steal rubbish they may as well keep it, so he couldn’t have seen him. 

“I felt it,” Kylo tilts his head a fraction to the right almost making his sinister figure look cute. “Did you do something to my mind?” He tries not to sound accusing, but the thought of having someone else in his head disturbs him. Besides he’d rather Kylo didn’t know about the confusing muddle of emotions Hux has concerning him, the conflicting dislike and affection that’s left him firmly in the corner of fuck this shit and damn it, he’s pretty. 

“No.” This time Hux believes him, having his mind invaded would certainly be painful and the only pain he’s felt is Kylo’s. 

Before he has a chance to reply black leather obscures his vision, kylo’s hand hovering less than an inch away. He knows what this is, knows that he can’t stop Ren from breaching his private thoughts. “What do you think your doing, Ren?” He tries all the same. 

“Looking,” Is all the information he gets and he tries to think of anything, but brown eyes rimmed with red and plush lips. “We have a bond,” Is the final estimate as Ren lowers his hand. “I created one without my knowledge.” Right now he doesn’t know what to believe, if only he could see a face instead of black metal. 

As if prompted Ren takes it off and hands it to him like it was a precious jewel. He’s almost surprised to see the same face he saw this morning, as if the hours between had somehow replaced the man underneath. Finding nothing, but sincerity in Kylo’s eyes he chooses to believe that their connection was accidental. “Would you like me to remove it?” Some part of him was expecting the mechanical monotone to remain no matter the logic behind it, but the soft, deep voice matches the face in front of him. 

“No.” His answer surprises him just as much as it shocks Kylo. The bond, whatever it might be, no longer feels like an intrusion into his privacy and he takes an odd comfort in knowing that he can better help Kylo heal with it. It is an addition he can learn to live with. For now. 

“I’d never invade your mind, General.” Kylo’s hand is there again, hanging just out of reach, waiting for his permission. Leaning in is the easiest decision he’s made. The black leather is soft against his cheek, cool and impersonal, but a big step nonetheless. It’s the first time Kylo has laid a hand on him, probably the first time he’s touched anyone without violence in a long time. 

Letting Kylo take the lead he stays his ground patiently while a thumb gently touches his split lip. It’s an apology and he lets a small smile cross his lips, just a slight up tick at the corner of his mouth. The hand retreats all too soon, but before he can become too disappointed Kylo tugs his gloves off and cups Hux’s face with bare hands. 

Letting the moment guide him he drops the helmet and wraps his arms around Kylo’s broad frame, initiating a hug that is far superior to their previous one. A gentle tug is all it takes to bring them together. The hands leave his face, combing through his hair and putting it into disarray, at the moment he couldn’t care less. He ducks his head to hide a smile while Kylo continues to play with his hair while radiating a sense of satisfaction of ‘finally’.


	2. Chapter 2

Kylo’s fascination with Hux’s hair never seems to end, long fingers playing with it any opportunity they get. He’s been steadily growing bolder since that day in the storage room, even seeking out Hux’s company without wounds to tend. They still argue with words cold enough to freeze Tatooine, but now, instead of destroying the nearest thing to him Kylo seeks him out and timidly cuddles up. Most of the time, at least. There are still incidents, some even resulting in injury, that drives a wedge between them. He avoids those as much as possible, knows to back down when emotions not belonging to him breach his mind. 

As it is now, with Kylo’s substantial weight resting against his chest, he finds only peace floating along their bond. Soft waves in time with deep breaths. He suspects this is the only way Kylo can sleep without nightmares. The first time he was pulled from sleep by the heart stopping shock of indescribable torture it left him breathless and trembling, searching for the root of the fear. Now he’s becoming numb to it. It’s something that only ever happens when they’re apart. Knowing that his presence chases the demons from Kylo’s sleep is something he has trouble understanding, but appreciates nonetheless. 

It’s risky, what they’re doing. In the weeks since they started this, he’s heard whispers among the officers. Kylo Ren spending time in his quarters at night has not gone unnoticed, thankfully no one has had the gall to mention it to him apart from Phasma. He’s been determinately turning down her invitations for tea ever since. She may have murdered Brendol Hux on his orders, more than proving her loyalty, but breaking Kylo’s trust is something he refuses to do. Strange to think that three months ago he would have happily thrown the insolent knight under the bus. 

Moments like these have become dangerously precious to him. To think there might be a time when his pillows no longer smell like lavender and dark forests brings with it a note of distress. He knows he can’t expect Kylo to stay forever, that this is likely to end when he’s no longer of any use, when Kylo discovers his less than clean thoughts about him and severs their bond. But until that day he going to enjoy every moment he gets. 

“Stop thinking so loud,” His ears heat up when he realises that Kylo might already know about his conflicting emotions. “Just go to sleep.” He lets out a breath he hasn’t realised he was holding while Kylo throws a heavy arm across his hips and nuzzles into his neck, falling back asleep as quickly as he woke. 

“What have I done?” He whispers into the suddenly heavy silence. Millicent stirs, regarding him with lazy eyes from her nest of black robes. He feels exposed. 

———

“Tea, General?” It takes tremendous effort not to visibly startle as the captain slides into his line of sight. 

“No, thank you, Captain.” He doesn’t feel much like being interrogated today, mind already muddled enough by feelings he doesn’t want to have. This is exactly the kind of personal turmoil he was raised to avoid. Yet here he stands, considering the merits of pushing borders over taking what Kylo is willing to give. 

“I insist, for your own sake,” For his own sake? The gall, Phasma may be a friend, but on the bridge he’s still her superior. “You’re wearing his gloves.” He can feel her stare burning through him as he realises she’s correct. The leather is warm and supple as he clenches his hands just to make sure, the excess material bunching in his grip. His face is boiling and he can only hope no one else has made the same observation. 

“What of it?” He grinds out, levelling her with a glare that could stop a raging wampa as he tugs the gloves off and hides them in the pocket of his greatcoat. “What I do in my own time and with whom is of nobody’s concern, but mine.” The day he willingly feeds the rumour mill on this ship will be a dark one indeed. His time with Kylo is borrowed and he won’t sacrifice a second of it to the hungry masses below. 

She steps down, wisely knowing when to stop, he has no doubt she’ll be back tomorrow. “With all due respect, sir. Your lovesickness is starting to affect your performance. Do something about it.” Her words are like a punch to the nose and leave him shook just long enough for her to slip away. A feeling of dread sinks low in his gut, if she knows, how many more have drawn the same conclusion? Even if he were to do something about his feelings he wouldn’t know where to start. 

His usual methods would be too brash and forward to use in their situation. It wouldn’t feel right. He very much doubts Kylo would appreciate being treated like the star in a holodrama either. Planning for something he barely has any information about is a challenge and had it been anything else he wouldn’t have hesitated, but this is something he can’t draw too many assumptions about. One wrong move too many and it’s all over. He’ll just have to suppress his emotions better, rather that than loose the one person he’s come to care for.

Kylo enters his quarters like clockwork every night at 2100, looking every bit his usual menacing self. “I felt your distress today.” His heart skips a beat at the words, Maker, no, he can’t know. 

“It’s been resolved.” He knows Kylo sees it for the lie it is and he refuses to look up when he hears the familiar hiss of the mask coming off. One look into those eyes and he’ll be split open, all secrets bared to the galaxy. He hasn’t felt this vulnerable since he was a child. 

Thankfully Kylo leaves it at that, instead sending what calm he can manage through their bond. It draws a smile out of him, leading him to finally put his data-pad down, abandoning his work for the day. The knight makes himself comfortable on the couch alongside Millicent, stretching his long body not unlike a cat himself. It surprised him at first how well the pair got along, but now the sight warms his heart. His two favourite creatures lounging about his furniture. Maybe he should get Kylo a cat of his own, he’s sure Millie would appreciate the company. 

Leaving the two be for now he digs up his secret stash of hot chocolate and sets about preparing it. The little packets of powder are the only sentimental things he has. He started to hoard the stuff once he learned it was Kylo’s favourite. It’s not often they receive rations of it aboard the Finalizer, but whenever they do he makes sure to lay claim on a few portions, the sugary concoction a useful ally during bad days. He suspects Kylo knows of his monopoly on the chocolate supplies, but he’s been gracious enough not to mention it. 

When he returns Kylo has removed his outer robes revealing the marred skin of his arms, thankfully there are no new ones since last week. The first time he saw the full extent of the damage he was nearly brought to tears, the scars continuing on across his whole body. It’s no less painful now to think of how many years Kylo must have spent punishing himself for no reason at all. 

The amount of trust Kylo has put in him is something he wouldn’t have thought possible until it was there. Why anyone would trust Hux of all people is still a mystery to him, but Kylo accepts the hot chocolate from him without even so much as a stray worry about poison. He’s surprised himself that he’s never taken the opportunity, that he doesn’t want to. 

Settling down on the couch feels like coming home, Kylo’s warmth and weight against him, Millie’s purrs a comforting backdrop. He’s feeling pensive today, pursued by thoughts of what was and what will never be. Caught in a trap of his own making. Forcing his thoughts away he tries to focus on the present instead, the rich aroma of chocolate and Kylo’s deep rumble of satisfaction. The resulting glow inside his chest has him quickly mapping out nearby planets to destroy in order to distract his aching heart. Maker help him. 

He recites his rather uneventful day just to break the silence, blaming his earlier distress on a minor electrical fire that was hardly a blip on his radar. He even finds a measure of joy in describing the punishment of the responsible technician. Kylo listens, silently yielding when Hux’s fingers start tracing his scars, gentle fingers mapping the silky ridges covering his arm from wrist to shoulder and back down. It’s the closest he gets to confessing how much he cares, trying to heal every single cut through touch alone. He doesn’t stop even when he runs out of things to say. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Kylo shifts away from him just far enough to look him in the eye. A heavy weight looms over him, a threatening presence seconds away from crushing him. 

At first he’s not sure how to answer, not knowing what exactly has transferred across the bond. It’s a loaded question and he knows Kylo won’t take a simple no for an answer, not this time. It’s not you, it’s me, seems about the worst possible place to start. Coming clean not much more appealing. He’s been dropped into an asteroid field without the necessary skill to get himself back out. It had to end sometime, he just hoped they could have had longer. 

“My feelings for you make me uncomfortable.” He can tell right away it was the wrong thing to say as Kylo visibly closes off, probably feeling disgusted and betrayed. It makes him want to shoot himself for being a galactic moron. He doesn’t say anything while Kylo dons his robes and slinks out of his quarters to prevent himself from swallowing his foot any further. 

That night, when he wakes chocking on fear, every thought he reaches out with hits a wall he has no chance to breach. 

———

Smug would be the word to describe Phasma when he finally caves and agrees to a casual interrogation. What’s the point of denying it now that it’s over anyway? He hasn’t even seen Kylo over the past three days, the only sign of him still being alive the sharp pain of a blade digging into his thigh. It hurts to think that Kylo must believe it was all a ruse, that his words meant nothing, that their shared nights were a necessary chore. He desperately wishes he could go back and change his words if only to avoid hurting Kylo. He’d rather live with his own demented feelings than knowing he caused someone he cares about to harm themselves again. 

“How’s Ren? Still warming your bed?” Even the tea she hands him tastes smug.   
The glare he gives in return could have killed lesser creatures. 

“I put my foot in it.” Is all he’s willing to disclose, she’s smart enough to take it from there. He can’t say he’s surprised when she conjures up a flask from nowhere and dumps a good lot of it into his tea, he is on the other hand, grateful. He decides not to berate her on breaking protocol. It’s strong and that’s all he needs to know as he takes a hearty slug. 

When he does eventually look up again she’s gone from being smug to having ‘you’re an idiot’ written all over her face. It’s not something he needs to be told, he’s well aware. Even Millicent seems to be conveying that sentiment lately. 

He knows he’ll eventually have to corner Kylo and try to explain himself, lest Phasma gets fed up and does it for him, which would make a bad situation worse. For such a strategic mind he’s drawing a frustrating blank on non threatening ways to do it. Were he a weaker man he might have sent a note, but he knows deep down this needs to be done in person. He gives Phasma a pleading look in the hopes that she won’t make him say it, won’t force him to put words to his feelings, he’s not sure that he could.

He would ask for suggestions if he didn’t know Phasma’s idea of flirting was challenging them to a fight. Hux doesn’t even want to consider fighting Kylo who’d probably beat him so easily he’d have to leave the First Order out of shame. He’s never been much ashamed of his slight physique, but no amount of authority can make him compare to the walking mountain that is Kylo Ren, let alone help him in a sparring match. 

“Have you considered just jumping him?” Had it been anybody else, he would have, but as it is it wouldn’t surprise him if Kylo was a virgin or at least horribly inexperienced. He finds it hard to believe that Snoke’s teachings included sex ed. It’s not like he can get within jumping distance anyway, the man can stop a blaster bolt there’s no way he wouldn’t stop Hux, even at full speed. 

“If I could get within range.” He quips before chugging the rest of his tea as a way to say he’s had enough socialising for now. At least he can distract himself with work while hoping in vain that his problems will disappear, that he’ll find Kylo in his quarters like nothing ever went wrong. 

Disappointment is useless, he thinks as he finds his quarters exactly the way he left them that morning, cold and empty. Even Millie is gone, she must have slipped out alongside the cleaning droid as she sometimes does. She’ll come back in her own time, looking for her is pointless on a ship this big. Thankfully there’s more work waiting for him at his desk, the more the better. 

He loses track of time between reports, requests and bills, so far gone he barely notices his door slide open at 2100. He’s almost certain he imagined it until he hears a mechanical cough. Kylo Ren is standing in his quarters, Millie lounging in his arms, as ridiculous as it looks it’s the best thing he’s seen in days. It’s undignified the way he scrambles around his desk. Kylo doesn’t seem to notice as he lets Millie down onto the floor. 

“She came to me.” Never in a million years did he think he’d miss that monotone. By the time Hux has gathered himself and started to formulate a speech in his head Kylo is already at the door, nearly out of his grasp once more. 

“Wait.” He grabs Kylo’s arm, mimicking how this all started what feels like a lifetime ago. 

“I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, general.” The words hit him like a pile of bricks and he realises, not for the first time, what an idiot he’s been. How rejected Kylo must have felt while Hux made an ass of himself. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he chances to let go of Kylo’s arm, finding great relief when the knight chooses to stay, to give him a chance to explain. “It was poorly worded and I doubt I could do much better now,” He reaches for the mask, unsure if Kylo will let him remove it. He does. “Look.” It’s an offer. Reaching for Kylo’s hand he brings it up to his face where it stays unprompted.

Steeling himself for what he’s about to do, he starts dredging up every thought he can find that will explain. He waits until Kylo’s eyes focus and he knows his mind is being searched before letting himself feel. Opening the floodgates he’s been forcing shut for way too long. Kylo recoils at the sudden barrage of emotions, a small gasp slipping from his lips, but studiously retains eye contact while Hux opens up in a way he’s never done before. Allowing himself to be judged. 

They stay there for a long time, kylo a comforting presence in his mind. By the time he retreats it’s nearly too much, he feels raw and vulnerable, but good all the same. The weight on his shoulders noticeably lighter. He doesn’t dare move, afraid he’ll break the moment and find himself back behind his desk having dreamt it all up. 

Familiar fingers card through his hair while careful thoughts of reciprocation reach his mind. He lets himself smile without restriction, finding an answering one on Kylo’s face. 

“May I kiss you?” Asking feels like the right thing to do despite what they’ve just shared. Kylo’s hand falls to his shoulder, nervously playing with the collar of Hux’s uniform as he nods, for the first time avoiding eye contact. 

He leads them into a gentle kiss, not sure how far Kylo will let him go. He steps away a few seconds later only to be drawn back in by a strong arm wrapping around his waist. They meet once more and he can’t help but think ‘finally’.

**Author's Note:**

> Fantastic art by the supremely talented Nohto. 
> 
> https://jetspumpkinprince.tumblr.com/post/171414752957/commissioned-some-lovely-art-by-nohto-for-my-fic


End file.
